Paperthin
by stopbeingbored
Summary: 2k3!verse. Established!Katanaship. "Being gay is not contagious, but Casey's face is all angles pointing away from you, and sometimes you wonder if you are making the right choices."
1. Angles and Slopes

**AN:**_ Hi everyone and thank you for checking out my new Katanaship story! I am trying a new style in this one so reviews would be highly appreciated.  
_

**Warnings:** _Established slash relationship (Leo/Usagi). Homophobia. Mention of depression._

**Summary:** _Usagi and Leo have been going out for a while. Set somewhere after the events of Prodigal Son. / Being gay is not contagious, but Casey's face is all angles pointing away from you, and sometimes you wonder if you are making the right choices._

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**PAPERTHIN**_  
_

**Chapter One: Angles and Slopes**

* * *

"It's not contagious, you know," you say quietly.

Even though neither of you moves, there is a barely perceptible change in the air. A flicker of shame on Casey's face: he's going to deny it in a moment, going to ask what you mean. He knows well enough what you mean and he also he knows why you said it. It's just the two of you in the kitchen, but he is sitting all the way on the other end of the table: away from you. It's just the two of you here: Raph is on his way to join you for breakfast, but for now you have this strange, strangled intimacy that is born from proximity and mutual awkwardness, and that's why you said it.

"What do you mean, Leo?" Casey asks. There it is, the denial. But you have seen the shame on his face. You know that he knows.

"Being gay," you say. "It's not contagious, being gay."

His face changes. It's all angles now, all sharp lines and protruding jaw pointing away from you. It's just the two of you: you can say these things, but Raph is on his way to join you. He will be here soon; there is no time to tether on the edge. You always preferred to be blunt and honest, to plunge right in. It is not the human way. Maybe that's why you made it yours.

"Whoever said it was?" he demands sharply, but he is not looking at you. Shame on his face; it's there, you can see it in the lines of his mouth. You don't answer. Your eyes are very dark today, like the coffee Donatello prefers in the mornings, almost black and unfathomable. Your face is not: there is hurt there in the creases on your forehead, nervous anticipation in the way you tied your mask. Plain for those who know you. Casey would have seen something, would have noticed it too, except that you are not what he thought you were and now he has forgotten how to read you.

You don't answer. That would only serve to aid him in his deceit. You said the truth and he avoided to tell an equal truth in return and now he is hanging, strangled by the shame in his face, and you can only watch. He is all angled, all angled away, and you are relaxed in a way that means you are going to cry later.

He is working up the nerve to say something, but he is coming at the truth the wrong way. He will lash out at you, you can tell. He won't apologize (though he means to): he will hurt you again, the way he did last night, the way his eyes did when they caught you kissing Usagi goodbye. You remember the incredulous wonder in his voice when he fell behind on your way back, remember his words echoing through the sewer tunnels. Did he know you could hear him then? Did it matter to him? (It matters to you.)

_"But you are all boys. You share your beds all the time. Doesn't he make you uncomfortable?" _

Like you are a danger to your brothers. Like you could ever do anything but protect them.

Usagi does not need protection, but maybe you do. You are too relaxed in your chair. Your shoulders are all downward lines, your smile lopsided, your mask is loose. You are going to cry later because he hurts you. And he can hurt you because it is just the two of you. You knew that this was going to happen, and if he hadn't forgotten how he could see it too; it's all in your shoulders. But you still chose to talk about it. You didn't have to do that. (You _shouldn't_ have had to do it. That is a difference.)

Maybe Usagi will be back by tonight. He can hold you when you cry. (Maybe it's better if he doesn't come back tonight. This will only upset him, and you hate to see him upset. But you need him, oh, you need him right now.)

Casey opens his mouth to say something now. He will hurt you: you know he will, he has done it before. He is insecure and taken aback and he will hurt you. But he never gets that far; Raph enters the kitchen to join you for breakfast and just like that, the intimacy is gone. It was just the two of you, that's why you said it, but now Raph is here. Casey can't hurt you now. Did you know that Raph would come in when he did? Maybe you did. Maybe you did know that.

"Morning," Raph mutters. You nod in response; you don't trust your voice right now. Casey only grins at his friend. Your brother slept well, he is relaxed in a way that you lack. It's a bit surprising that he is here: you asked him not to go out tonight and so he didn't. He does not wear his mask, and his eyes are all amber and freckles. Raph is always innocent in the mornings; it is the days that make him angry. He didn't shower yet: Mikey is blocking the bathroom, using up the hot water again. Raph doesn't mind. He is innocent now.

"What were you talkin' about?" he asks while he opens the fridge. He heard you speak; of course he did, the lair carries sounds to strange places and you were not trying to be quiet. There was an intimacy between the two of you, but it is gone now. (Maybe it wasn't there in the first place.) You watch Raph, and Casey watches you watching Raph: judging you. He is coming at the truth the wrong way. It's not contagious, being gay. But Casey's shame is on your face now, burning your cheeks. You turn your head away; you don't answer. Maybe _shame_ is contagious. You wouldn't know. You have only ever had your own.

"Ah, ya know, just chattin'." Casey's voice is dismissive, and Raph grunts: He believes him now in ways that he won't believe anyone in the evenings. He sits down next to Casey, opposite you, facing you. You are going to cry later, it is all in your shoulders and your lopsided smile and the way your mask is tied too loosely, and he'll notice. Raph knows you too well. He will see. He has seen it already: he frowns at you and you look away. He won't ask you now, he is innocent in the mornings. Mikey is blocking the bathroom, and Raph has yet to shower his sleep away. The milk in his cereal is not the same.

You leave the kitchen and bury yourself in the dojo. That is how you cope (except you don't, do you), with work until your muscles demand your attention and scream louder even than your heart; you are not meditating _over_ your problems, you are simply meditating them _away_. It is self-destructive, but it works well enough for you. You learned better these days, found other approaches, learned to speak your mind better and open up to your brothers, but they are still Usagi's ways and not yet yours. You would love to play a video game with Mikey or hand Don his tools while he works on the new van. They are good listeners: you wouldn't have to say anything at all for them to understand. Or you could ask Raph to hold the punching bag for you while you train. He is such an expressive listener; his mind always works better when his body does, and he knows you so well.

Your shoulders are all downward lines and your mask is tied too loose. You feel a bit blind, but they can't see that in here, there is paper in the way. (It might as well be granite.) Casey is out there, talking to Mikey and Raph, and he is angled away from you and you are all downward lines today, the difference is striking. They are all good listeners, but Casey is going to hurt you. So you bury yourself in the dojo. That is the way you cope.

(Maybe it is better if Usagi doesn't come back tonight.)

Raph's voice is too loud. You can hear it through the paper walls of the dojo as time passes by in spurts and limps. His voice is too loud: he is always innocent in the mornings, but it is afternoon now and he had his shower. Sound carries in strange ways in the lair, and you bury yourself so you won't have to listen. Paperthin, that is how you feel: Paperthin and cracked, so you work out the kinks and try to make yourself believe that the truth is preferable over lies and backward glances. Your shoulders are slumped, but they can't see. They _mustn't_ see.

It's not contagious, being gay. But there was shame on Casey's face and now it is on yours. _Shame_ might be contagious then. You wouldn't know. You have only ever had your own.


	2. Heavy Paper, Steady Rock

**AN:**_ Thanks again to the reviewers so far, it really means a lot to me to know that someone out there is reading this. Paperthin comes in four chapters. It's already finished, I'm just polishing it up a bit so there should be a new chapter every two days at the most.  
_

**Warnings:** _Established slash relationship (Leo/Usagi). Homophobia. Mention of depression._

**Summary:** _You are paperthin and falling apart, but Raph is amazing. Maybe he can catch you. Maybe he really can._

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**PAPERTHIN**_  
_

**Chapter Two: Heavy Paper, Steady Rock  
**

* * *

It's almost eight in the evening, and Usagi hasn't come back.

You stay in the dojo for as long as you can without making your family suspicious. You rarely skip dinner, but it is not unheard of, and anyway the sound of Casey's booming laughter makes you feel sick to your stomach right now. You always rather liked Casey, in a distant my-friend's-friend kind of way: he is nice enough behind his headstrong facade, and in any case everyone who can make Raphael smile is more than deserving of your time and appreciation. But now something happened that you can not reverse: you kissed Usagi, and for some reason that crossed a line.

In the beginning, when you first saw his face all contorted with the shame in the corners of his mouth, you didn't understand. You thought that maybe it had to do with the two of you being ninja and samurai, because you know that this is what Usagi is so secretly afraid of. But Casey Jones is not familiar with the ancient Japanese values and traditions; he wouldn't see it that way. So you considered the age difference: Your friend is a bit smaller and more delicate than you, and he is still a student of the sword himself, but he is still older. Yes: you can see how five years might seem strange to an outsider, and even though you are no longer a minor, it may take another few years for that impression to pass.

Now you realize that you were fooling yourself. The reason is that you are both men, simple as that.

Casey Jones can accept that you are a 5"2 bipedal mutated talking turtle who is trained in ninjutsu, but somehow you kissing another man doesn't fit into the equation.

It's not that you need Casey's approval; you don't. He does plenty of things that you don't approve of, either, and drags your younger brother into one half of them and your whole team into the other. Your brothers are not always fond of what you do; you bet that right now they are at the dinner table, talking over your empty seat in hushed tones. You don't need Casey Jones to approve of your choice of a partner. But you do need him to _accept_ it. He is here often; he is friends with Raph. He is with April now, and you need April to be there, you need to be able rely on a responsible adult who can walk the streets in daylight. You can't split the family over some selfish desire, but letting Usagi go is not an option you can stand to consider. And you have fought alongside Casey before; it might happen again, and you need to trust the man to have your back just as you have his. No, you don't need Casey's approval, but you do need his acceptance; that's important.

His laughter echoes through the pipes and off the walls of the dojo: the lair carries sounds to strange places, and the paper doors are too thin to keep out your demons.

You have settled into your meditation pose, but you are unable to clear your mind: fear is keeping you anchored to the present, sits in your stomach like lead, like something black and caustic. Your fists are working, so is your throat: anticipation of danger, of pain.

_What are you waiting for?_

Usagi hasn't come back, and Casey will hurt you. He did it before.

The paper doors slide open and you relax at once; at least keep up the pretense a little longer, at least do that. You have simply forgotten the time over your meditation session, as you sometimes do. (Predend that the thought of food doesn't make you nauseous.)

Whoever it is, he is not fooled. The doors slide shut again, but someone is in the room with you, you can feel their presence like a whisper on your skin. Sixth sense, Usagi calls it. The third eye. (Casey's laughter booming through the lair: your doom.) The footsteps are almost inaudible, but the floorboards creak softly: that is Raph. He has already seen through your farce; you are all downward lines today and he knows you too well.

You open your eyes.

It's Raph sure enough, stopping just in front of the tatami mats that cushion the meditation area. He studies you the way he studies matters of great importance, like he has just found an interesting little problem. _If the gang van can go up to 30 miles per hour and you know a shortcut to their destination, is it still worth to attack now? to jump the van? to catch a ride? __  
_

_If Leonardo hasn't eaten properly all day and Casey Jones has never left the kitchen, is it still worth asking?_

You feel exposed under his too-steady gaze: he is so innocent in the mornings, but the days remind him why that is a bad thing. It is evening now. The creases in your forehead are worry, nervousness caused you to tie your mask with unsteady hands: he _saw_ all that already, but he only _notices_ it now. An interesting little problem: Do you attack now or do you stalk your prey until it gives you what you want all by itself?

"I take it you're not hungry," he says. It's not a question; it's all in your shoulders: downward lines and exhaustion, and the thought of food making you sick. Casey's laughter: there is no refuge for you within these walls. So you shake your head. You can't answer. It's like your voice is gone, left with Usagi, left with the words you said this morning. (The moment felt intimate. It feels poisonous now.) You are paperthin and ripping in the middle: you have been folded and unfolded one time too often; your center is showing. Paperthin and heavy, and if you know that you are going to cry later, then Raph knows it, too.

"Splinter is going to kick him out, you know," Raph says conversationally; when did he get so close? He sits down opposite you, your knees are touching: the way Usagi sits when he tries to calm you down. He is an expressive listener, your brother. He thinks with his whole body. Maybe he can catch you. Maybe he really can.

And Splinter is throwing Casey out. It should feel like a break in your conversation, but it is not, because Raph saw what was on your mind and replied to that instead of your words. "Case is behaving like a dick," he continues, blunt and straightforward and not a trace apologetic. It's not his place to apologize: he doesn't agree with Casey. And he doesn't need anyone's approval. Neither do you, except you do, because you are the leader and you can't split the family over something as selfish as love.

"Cut the crap," Raph tells you: reads you like a book. Better than a book: like a fight, a battle, an interesting problem. Attack now or wait until later? Raph is always so impulsive. You used to envy him for it; you fear him for it now. "Anyway, he'll be gone in a few minutes, you know how sensei is. You can come to dinner then. Or at least go to your room. Read a book, write a love poem, whatever." He tilts his head when you don't respond, but you keep your eyes down. Your mask is slipping. He'll see.

"Hey. Are you okay?"

You aren't; you aren't, you are tearing from the inside out: your center is showing. You are a 5"2 bipedal talking mutant turtle, and you steal lives like others steal copper pennies, but kissing someone does not fit into the equation that equals you. No, you are not okay. And anyway, you lost your voice this morning, let it fall prey to the words and the angles and the shame, so you can't do more than shake your head and pray that you are too interesting to let go.

"Jesus Christ," Raph says very softly, and then he hugs you.

Those who know them often say that Raphael's hugs are awkward. You never thought so, but then again, who are you to judge? Not many people hug you, and Raph is different from almost all of them, he is a kindred spirit. He knows you so well. And Usagi is not back yet, so Raph holds you and keeps talking to you in his dark and sonorant voice that means that the day has made him angry again and is about to make him mad, but that is fine, because he keeps talking anyway, and at least this way nobody can hear you choke against his shoulder.

"Thing is that Casey thinks of romantic relationships, like, dating and hanging out and shit, as a man-woman thing. I don't think he knows anyone else who's gay. Hockey players 'n such. And he was just surprised when you kissed Usagi, that's all. 's altogether too sappy for you, y'know."

You want to say that you have never made your sexual orientation a secret, but all that comes out are strangled gasps: wet splashes on broad shoulders, a dark voice over your ragged breaths. Raph understands you. He is a kindred spirit: he knows you, knows the way your back is too straight and your smile is all wrong; he won't tell anyone. "And he thinks that one of you has to represent the woman, and it doesn't fit into his view of you. That's all. He'll come around."

You can't help it: you picture Usagi in a dress, maybe a wig, masses of hair and flowing blue silk around a delicate frame. He'd be all wrong, it'd be awkward, and he'd be mortified in any case: the image of his face makes you laugh through your tears, and something unravels.

"There, there," Raph says and puts his chin on your head to have a better view while he unties your mask and ties it into an orderly knot for you. "It'll be fine. Next thing he'll be picking on Usagi, and then things will work out by themselves. And anyway he's gone now."

Casey picking on Usagi: that is something you can't allow. Someone will get hurt. You will get hurt. Casey will hurt you: he has done it before. You try to speak- _what will we do?_- but your throat is too tight, all you do is gasp; it's actually a bit terrifying, like drowning, but Raph's chin is on your head and you can feel the pulse in his throat beat against your forehead. He's steady, he's a rock. He can catch you. Maybe he really can.

"I guess your bunny will break Casey's nose and that'll be the end of the whole thing," Raph muses. It's amazing: you can actually never tell whether he reads your mind in some way or whether his thoughts simply run on tracks similar to yours. Kindred spirits: best friends, that's what you are. Amazing, he's amazing. You feel like you are dying, and he makes jokes about it. "'Sides, one would think the guy knows by now that being a woman doesn't mean that you can't kick ass." You know he's smirking, like he knows that you stopped crying even though tears are still dripping from your eyes. That's not crying anymore: That is the rest of the flood that needs to wash away the debris before the dam can be repaired. Raph understands. He's amazing: the world as a general idea makes him mad, but their own reality barely gets a bad joke out of him.

Your voice is still lost, and your body is still pointing downwards, but that's okay. Raph rebuilt your mask: you'll be fine. You are paperthin for a better view; no borders, nothing to hide, not here. Your family is your refuge. In this moment nothing can harm you or hurt you at all.

It's almost nine in the evening, and Usagi hasn't come back. You'll be fine.


	3. Afloat at Sea

**AN:**_ Thanks again to the reviewers so far, it really means a lot to me to know that someone out there is reading this. Paperthin comes in four chapters. It's already finished, I'm just polishing it up a bit so there should be a new chapter every two days at the most.  
_

**Warnings:** _Established slash relationship (Leo/Usagi). Homophobia. Mention of depression. Depiction of violence.  
_

**Summary:** _It's all fine until Usagi makes the connections._

* * *

**PAPERTHIN**_  
_

**Chapter Three: Afloat at Sea  
**

* * *

It's not fine.

Usagi does break Casey's nose, but that comes later. That comes one week later, in fact, when he finally figures out what is going on. You were careful: he had to piece it together from text messages and sideways glances; you didn't want him to know. You hate to see him upset, so you didn't tell him. But he knows you too well. He finds out anyway.

He comes back just one day later. He's fine, just a bit tired; he only left on a minor errand for Lord Noryuki after all. That means that by the time the clock strikes nine, he is comfortably stretched out next to you on the sofa: his cheek rests against your arm, his ears are draped over your shell. This is bliss: the blue hours before midnight, a spot of warmth on your shoulder. This is bliss: Michelangelo's soft smiles when he thinks you can't see. You are paperthin and heavy, but Usagi is an ocean; he makes you light.

It's ten when Mikey excuses himself to get more snacks. Usagi huddles closer, draws his knees to his chest: warmth against your skin, his lips against your lips, impossibly delicate.

"What happened?" He whispers softly into the crook of your neck, and just like that, you fall apart.

"I don't want to talk about it." You mean to be quiet, but your voice is heavy with tears: you are heavy all over, your center is showing. He turns his head back to the TV, rests his cheek on your shoulder again. This is bliss: he is warm in all the ways you are not. He hums a bit; that's nice. It's a soft sound. You could get used to this, except right now you are in freefall. The ocean is treacherous: it makes you float right until it makes you drown.

"Fine," he whispers. "Fine."

It's not fine, but that doesn't come until one week later, when Usagi breaks Casey's nose. For now you are inclined to believe him. This is bliss: when Mikey returns from the kitchen, he finds you with your head tilted to the left, cheek on Usagi's forehead. Your brother pretends to be unfazed; you pretend not to see the flash of his smile in the dark. And so the night ends.

Over the course of the next day you show Usagi your progress with your new katas and he tells you about the farmer boy he once met who could disarm the most skilled samurai with nothing but a garden fork. Sai, you say, careful not to let Raphael hear you, but Usagi nods and laughs.

Your phone vibrates while you're in the shower, so he reads the message. You asked him to: it might be something important, and besides, it's not like you have anything to hide from him. When you come back from your shower, all shining skin and bright eyes, he smiles his _new_ smile at you (the one that is solely yours) before he hands you the phone.

"Mister Jones texted you," he says. He's catching on fast: this is 21st century vocabulary, but he's determined to learn. So you throw your towel at his face, make it look like a joke: determined not to let him see how your breath is suddenly too shallow.

"Anything interesting?" you ask while he pretends to suffocate under the cloth: it's all games when you are together, but your heart is beating too fast. Keep him occupied. He mustn't know.

His voice is muffled but easy enough to understand when he answers. "Not if you haven't developed a new secret emergency code in my absence." He pulls the towel down then, eyes you critically, only half-joking now. "Have you?"

His fur is ruffled and he smells of you: it's hard to concentrate. "Um, no," you say, confused and frightened when you open the message. It's short, it's harmless enough; it turns your stomach upside-down and makes your legs jittery.

_How's my favorite fruitcake today?_

You feel sick when you sit down on the futon next to your friend: is this meant to be amiable? Can Casey be that stupid? But Usagi doesn't understand: this is 21st century vocabulary, he can't know that. He _can't_. He can sense your distress, though. He won't pressure you: he loves you, he understands your boundaries. He can read your text messages; he can't read your mind. That's fine: it's scary enough when Raph does it, and Raph is amazing, he is a rock. Together, they might just be able to catch you. (If only you didn't feel so heavy today.)

So instead of prying he takes you to the kitchen and makes you tea. You sit down opposite to each other. The room is quiet; your mind is not. This is bliss: to share a cup of tea in silence, to unwind after a hard day's work. You work up the nerve to say something (what could you possibly say?), but he raises his mug to his lips with a meaningful glance. You don't talk when there is tea to be had: where are your manners? (where, indeed?) So you sip your tea and try not to be afraid.

A crash echoes through the lair, a siren starts wailing: Don is working on something in his lab, he must have shorted the electronics again. You make as if to stand, but Usagi is faster; he has already downed his cup, he'll handle it. He'll handle it, you drink your tea. _How's my favorite fruitcake today? _You feel sick. The tea doesn't help. (It helps a bit.)

So you sit and you wrap your cold hands around the hot mug and you pretend that the thought of food doesn't make you nauseous. It's fine, it's fine now. Except it's not anymore, because it's starting now, the decline. It's starting when Usagi cautiously peeks into the lab where Don is just turning off the alarm, cursing under his breath. They smile at each other, they nod: Don likes Usagi well enough, and Usagi likes Don all the more for he is fascinating in new, Western ways.

He's a good listener, Donatello: you don't have to say anything for him to understand. But he's distracted now and so he asks.

"What is it?"

Usagi is a kindred spirit. He knows you too well: he knows himself better. He much prefers the straightforward approach, so what he says in return is: "When you call someone a fruitcake, what does that mean?"

Don isn't too sure, but a quick internet search reveals the truth. Insults. You knew: you had your gay teens years ago, you know what people say. They didn't. You never said: you hate to see them upset. And Usagi simply nods and goes back into the kitchen for more tea. It's not until much later that week that Don remembers the conversation and wonders why the question was asked in the first place.

So the days go by and the week progresses. It's fine, except it's not, because now Usagi knows that Casey insults you. He knows that you are distressed, though you often are: your brothers are a handful. But he will make the connection. It's 21st century vocabulary, but he is determined to learn: he'll make the connection, and then he'll know. (He can't know: you can't split the family over something as selfish as love.)

So you bury yourself in the dojo. That is how you cope, after all (except that you don't, do you, not these days, not anymore). You are paperthin and cracked, so you work out the kinks, and then you try to distract yourself with video games and books and beer. Less time on your own. Raph tied your mask for you; you are drowning, but you aren't lonely anymore. Those are Usagi's ways: they might become yours. But they are good listeners, your brothers, and you can't let anyone know. (You can't. Selfish: you can't.)

The week goes on and Usagi makes the connection. You are distressed, and your brothers are too loyal: they won't tell him. So he consults a higher power.

"It is good to see you here, Usagi-san," Splinter says when Usagi enters his room and leaves his sandals by the door. Your father's words are formal, but his voice is warm: he welcomes your friend. (Selfish.) Usagi bows deeply before he kneels down on one of the floor mats: _thank you for having me. _

"There is something I wish to discuss with you, Splinter-sensei," he says. "It is about Leonardo and our current… our relationship."

And while you play video games, Splinter nods and offers your friend tea, and the week progresses.

You know Casey will hurt you: he's done it before. So you try to keep your phone away from Usagi, because there are more text messages, and none of them are good. You don't know what Casey wants: a reaction? an outburst? Maybe he means to make amends; you don't know, you don't understand. Your body is showing the first results of your stress, you are hyperaware: anticipation of danger in your own home. Your phone is a poisonous snake that might strike at you any day now.

Casey is coming at the truth the wrong way. He thinks he has knowledge of the way gay men behave and thus, he thinks he knows your default setting. He's wrong: he already knew your default setting, he has known it for almost three years now. You are all downward lines and tightly coiled anger: plain to see for those around you, but you are not what he thought you are and he has forgotten that he knows how to read you. Paperthin for a better view, too heavy to float: one of these days you will start sinking, but the world be damned if you don't go out kicking to your last breath.

(Selfish.)

On the sixth day after Usagi's return, Casey writes _Can't stand another one of April's girly movies, care to switch places? _and you throw your phone against the wall so hard that it shatters.

Usagi looks up from his book. He's not surprised: you have been tense for days now. You sometimes are, but he has made the connection: fruitcake is an insult, and Splinter thinks that you deserve to be happy, but you don't know that he knows that. So you pick up the pieces and wish that emotions were as easily fixed as cellphones. Usagi nods when you tell him that you'll go get Don to repair this: He knows you too well, and your mask is slipping. Your fists clench and unclench: anticipation of danger. What are you afraid of? This is your home, this is your family, your friends: you are safe.

What are you afraid of?

Don rolls his eyes at the broken phone, but he abandons his current project and gets up to find his screwdrivers. Phones are important; staying in touch is important. Family is important. (Selfish.) He rummages through his drawers for a new casing, exchanges the joints: easy tasks, muscle memory by now. He's not distracted this time, there is no smoke. He is a good listener, your brother: You don't need to say anything for him to understand. (Your center is showing.)

He gives you back your phone; you have been here for half an hour, not moving, staring at him. Obvious; you are distressed, but then you sometimes are. There is an intimacy here that you remember: it will turn into poison later, but you are cracked and you are drowning and you can't split the family over something as silly as your heart, so you take the phone from him and swallow too thickly.

"I have another one ready," Don says and hands you a brand-new shellcell with a white casing. "For Usagi. While he's here," he adds. Talking too much: he's worried. You are too obvious in your pain. Raph rebuilt your mask, he is amazing, he is a rock, but you are drowning: he can't catch you here.

"It's not contagious," you say. You don't know why. (Yes, you do.) "Being gay. It's not contagious, being gay."

"Whoever said it was?" Don says. Surprised: his voice hitches, there is a catch in the middle. Surprised; he is making the connections now, and he can't do that, he can't.

(Selfish.)

"Wait, is that why Usagi was asking?"

Asking what? Asking what? you want to yell, but you don't. Kicking and screaming: you are running out of air. You run up the stairs to your room, must have run, you are there so fast, except you don't remember moving, you only remember when you stop; the room is empty. You run back downstairs: Mikey is on the sofa, still playing his games. (Has he moved at all this week?) Yes, he says, Usagi just went out. Takes a look at your face: why would Usagi leave the lair on his own? Where would he go? You clutch your friend's new cellphone until your knuckles turn as white as the casing, because you don't know either. (Except you do.)

Family is important, so you check: your topside disguise is gone. Usagi disguised himself; he understands. He is a kindred spirit, and he knows you too well. He knows himself, too: he left his daisho in your room. You remember seeing them there. He left his swords, and you are drowning, you have his phone. It's too late now. He made the connections. It's too late.

Usagi walks all the way to the 2nd Time Around and then in through the front doors. It's not far, the new lair is much closer to the new shop, but his heart is hammering against his ribs and his fists are clenching and unclenching. Anticipation of danger: what is he waiting for? what are you waiting for? So he walks up to April at the counter and tries to ignore her eyes, wide and afraid: anything important? No. Except that Casey has developed a new emergency code without anyone's knowledge, and Usagi has made the connections now.

"I need to have a word with Mister Jones," he says quietly. April nods, takes him to the stairs: Casey is in her apartment. He often is.

"Try not to break anything," she says. She doesn't ask what he wants; she can guess what he wants, and so Usagi doesn't reply: he knows himself too well. He left his katana with you; he didn't leave his fists.

"Mister Jones," he calls out when he enters. Casey is in the kitchen, but he comes out with raised eyebrows when he hears Usagi: anything important? No. Except it is. (It is.)

"Casey," he offers and tries a smile that Usagi does not return.

"Mister Jones, I need to speak with you."

He is a kindred spirit, and he always prefered honesty, so they don't sit down. They stand in the living room, next to the doors but clear of the windows, and Usagi all but disappears in your topside disguise. He is so small and compact: a steady pillar; a feline crouched in the undergrowth, ready to pounce. "You have been sending Leonardo text messages," he says. "That is going to stop."

"I was trying to be nice," Casey says. He is coming at the truth the wrong way: he thinks he knows gays, so he thinks he knows you. He forgets that he knew you all along. "Trying to support his new self."

"Leonardo has been gay for eightteen years," Usagi says. He has developed a new smile for you: he has a new growl, too, one for your enemies, one for when he stands over your fallen body with fresh blood on his hands. Anticipation of danger: you are snapping, and so is he. "You have been sending him these messages for little over a week. Nothing changed. Why did you?"

"Well, I sure didn't know." Casey looks uncomfortable: good. You are still at the door of the lair, frozen in shock, but Usagi left his swords. This is bliss: knowing that someone would kill for you; knowing that someone cares about you enough not to kill your friends. (Friends are important. Selfish.) And now you are drowning, and Casey is afloat: there is no island here, no safe haven for him to land in. "And I'm not sure his brothers did, I mean, with them all sharing a bed and whatnot. Must'a been a shock for his family. I am only trying to be nice."

And now Usagi has the full picture. Casey hurts you: he has done it before, he will do it again. His words in a sewer tunnel, his words on a cellphone screen: he is coming at the truth the wrong way. You are a 5"2 bipedal talking mutated turtle, but you kissing another man does not fit into the equation in Casey's head. He will come around: these things take time, but he will come around. It will take time and patience and friendly reminders, but he will come around.

Usagi is not a patient person. He is very small and very calm, the way the ocean is too flat before the flood comes, and then he breaks Casey's nose.

"Listen, Mister Jones," he says with his lips inches from Casey's throat. "Above all things, I value honor. This is not an even fight, and therefore I will not kill you. But you are not playing fair. Next time, I won't either."

He pulls his hood down low before he walks back downstairs and out through the front doors. His breath comes evenly, his hands are relaxed; he all but runs all the way back to you.

Casey doesn't get up from the floor for a long time, and he doesn't text you again.


	4. Soaring, Burning

**AN:**_ Wow. I just checked the reviews and I don't know what to say. I love you all, you are amazing. I hope you like this last chapter and I'm gonna see you all around! 3  
_

**Warnings:** _Established slash relationship (Leo/Usagi). Homophobia. Mention of depression. Depiction of violence. Making out and mention of smut (nothing explicit).  
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**Summary:** _Some things need time to work out, but you realize that it's a good thing that Usagi is not a patient person._

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**PAPERTHIN**

**Chapter Four: Soaring, Burning  
**

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Casey doesn't text you again. The week passes without any noteable incidents; for once nobody is kidnapped or hurt on solo missions, and so your phone remains silent.

Usagi doesn't tell you what he did while he was out, and so you don't ask. He has boundaries. He is a kindred spirit: you both work better on your own terms; you understand. You don't pry. He wouldn't, either, and besides, you mind very little these days.

You are progressing, but you don't know where. Usagi's lips on yours: the blissfull hours before midnight, a spot of warmth on your shoulder. (Raph comments on it; you don't mind.) Usagi's lips against your throat: a shudder down your spine. You are hypersensitive these days, and every brush of fur against your skin makes you feel exposed. You are progressing, yes: but where are you going?

It's been two weeks since Usagi came back from his errand, and he is growing restless. He has to leave again soon: you know he has to. (Pretend it doesn't kill you a bit every time.) He misses the grass, the sky; he misses the road beneath his feet, you can hear it in his voice every time he compliments your bed. Some things never change: he was born a samurai, but for some reason it is his life as a ronin that seems to have made him whole. Who are you to keep it from him?

(Selfish.)

He is growing restless and you are still wound too tight. Something has to change or you both are going to combust one of these days. Go down in flames: it's so different from drowning. You are so very heavy and too tired to fight anymore. Maybe burning is the preferable way out. It will be so much quicker.

But he can't leave. He knows you too well: you are paperthin these days, you are ripping apart in the middle. Your center is showing: he makes you light, and Raph is a rock, he is amazing; but you are too heavy these days. They won't be able to catch you this time.

So he stays, and you continue to drag both of you down.

You are progressing, yes. But where are you going? His lips against your wrist: pleasure in the strangest places. The brush of fur against your skin makes you feel hyperexposed and vulnerable. This is bliss: a spot of warmth against your shoulder. He draws his knees to his chest and your left side is on fire, warm in all the ways that you are cold. When he huddles closer to you at night, you don't mind. (You mind very little these days.) His lips against your collar bone: a tingling sensation (you don't mind). But he is growing restless, and you are wound too tight.

"I need to leave soon," he tells Donatello one day. Their voices are hushed: why are you listening at the door? Your brother is a good listener: Usagi doesn't have to say anything for him to understand. And you know your friend like you know yourself. _I need to leave soon:_ before someone gets hurt.

(You are hurting so much that you can't even feel it anymore.)

Two weeks, and April wants to catch up on recent events with you. Two weeks are a long stretch of silence between your family and her, although you don't mind; you mind very little these days. So she comes to the lair on Friday evening, and she brings movies and snacks and scrap electronics for Donatello.

She also brings Casey.

The silence is awkward. She knows: her eyes are defiant but downcast, her cheeks are too red. Casey's nose is still purple and green, impossible to ignore; his cheekbones are too prominent: he lost weight. You lost weight as well, although you don't mind: you have always been lean, it makes you fast, and besides, you mind very little these days. His eyes meet yours: a silent stare that burns you all the way down to the pits of your stomach, right to the center where something heavy and acidic is sitting lately. (Paperthin: your center is showing.) Splinter is upset; you can tell from the stillness that radiates from him. They all are: you can tell, and Casey can, too.

He knows your default setting. He's known it for almost three years now. He has just forgotten that he does.

(You have been gay for eightteen years. It was never something that needed to be discussed. It's not contagious, being gay: you didn't change, so why did he?)

Silence. But April wants to catch up, and she brought snacks; she means well. All eyes on you: what happens next? You don't mind. You mind very little these days, and so you all settle on the sofa. Casey picked the movie. You don't mind: his picks are always good, old-fashioned and reliable. He sits down in an armchair and Usagi sits down next to you, between your body and his: shielding you. (You are progressing, but where are you going?) Casey's eyes burn your skin where he looks at you. To go down in flames: much preferable to drowning. You are so cold that you don't even feel it anymore.

You can't concentrate on the movie, but you only notice when one hour has passed and the screen is paused for Don to use the loo.

Usagi shifts against you.

He is a kindred spirit: he knows you too well. You know him, too, or you thought you did; he is growing restless these days. You thought you were progressing, but now you realize that you are all but frozen to the spot while he tries in vain to warm you up: simple gestures, his lips against yours. You didn't mind. How laughable: you didn't mind that people got hurt because of you. He shields you, and Raph is amazing, but you were making yourself too heavy for them to catch you.

It was never their place. You need to catch yourself.

And now Usagi shifts against you, and you know that he just decided to leave.

It's all in the shoulders: you are but downward lines these days, too relaxed in your chair, and Casey is all angles, and in the meantime Usagi bends and breaks for you and you don't mind. (Selfish.) But that ends now. Your center is showing: you are paperthin for a better view, but you still have to show them where to look. Don likes Usagi well enough, Mikey's eyes are all soft: Raph winks at you over breakfast and Splinter just wants you to be happy. But what about you? Where are _you_ going?

Your eyes are on Usagi's face only now that he stopped looking at you.

Shame on your face, burning your cheeks. It's not contagious after all: you only ever have your own shame to boot, and it's burning you now. Preferable to drowning: heat in the cold. Your eyes are on Usagi's face, your hand is on his; he's not looking at you. All this time he was trying so hard to pull you up, and you dragged him down instead.

You don't need Casey's approval, but you do need his acceptance. Friends are important: you can't split your family over something as selfish as your heart.

(You realize that you are not the one people are upset about.)

So you lean over to your right and place a chaste kiss on Usagi's cheek.

His attention is a scary thing: like you, he is usually occupied with several lines of thoughts at once. A kindred spirit. You feel light again; the brush of fur against your skin makes you feel exposed, but his presence makes you feel safe. And now you have startled him. All his attention is on you: eyes, ears, face, body, turning in your direction. His eyes on your face: he makes you light. It's a scary thing. But you could never be scared of him.

(It's fine.)

So you tug at his wrist, and bury your free hand in his clothes, and he comes willingly. This is bliss: his lips on yours, his hand on your neck, nails scraping over your shell. This is bliss: you deepen the kiss and he moans into your mouth. He was growing restless and you were wound so tight; this ends now, you end it now. You have caught yourself in freefall: you can catch him as well.

So you tug at his wrist again, pull him over, and he straddles your hips with his knees and breathes your name into your mouth. This is bliss: he is warm in all the ways you are not, and your whole body is on fire. This is bliss: his tongue against your lips and not one care in the world.

"Geez, just get a room already," Casey rumbles.

And just like that, it's fine.

Some things simply need time to work out, but Usagi is not a patient person and Casey already knew your default setting; he just had to be reminded. You break the kiss for air, gasping like a drowning man while laughter bubbles up in your chest: you are paperthin for a better view, but only now you finally allow the others to see your center. You are laughing so hard that you are shaking with the intensity of it. You are in hysterics: you snap, and so Usagi does, too, laughing until he is on the floor, wheezing for air. Raph throws a pillow at Casey, and Casey throws one back. April's eyes in the gloom of the TV: sparkling with joy. Splinter's tail, swishing the ground: he just wants you to be happy.

"I need to leave tomorrow," Usagi whispers into the crook of your neck after you have settled down again, and you kiss his forehead and tell him that you know.

That night, he huddles close to you and places a kiss on your collar bone and finally, _finally _you understand. You are burning now, burning and soaring, so you roll on top of him and brace your weight on your toes and elbows and kiss him so hard that he arches up against you in surprise. The brush of fur against your skin makes you feel hypersensitive and exposed, but he is allowed to see: he is a kindred spirit and besides, he feels the same.

For two weeks you have been drowning, but when he pulls you under tonight, it feels like flying instead.

**~Fin**


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